


Depraved by Nature

by maybekindafucked



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Sex, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Painplay, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybekindafucked/pseuds/maybekindafucked
Summary: At the behest of his most primal instincts, Zim kidnaps his arch-enemy for an encounter the human won't be walking away from.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Depraved by Nature

**Author's Note:**

> Is it porn? Yes.
> 
> Is it disturbing? Yes.
> 
> Was I extremely sleep-deprived while writing it? Yes.

It was no secret that elimination of the sex drive was one of the many cogs in the machine keeping modern Irken society running as smoothly as possible.  
If asked, most Irkens would give either of two reasons for their preference for test tubes when it came to reproduction; the elimination of bad genes, and the speed needed to replace the Empire's expendable soldiers. Truthfully, though, these were only the pleasant side-effects; the original reason was seldom talked about.  
The reality of Irken sex was a vicious, traumatizing procedure, in which one of its two participants were guaranteed not to leave alive. The ancient Irkens lovingly referred to this one, whose body nourished and protected the embryonic smeets, as the broodslave.

It was happening. The familiar swelling, throbbing feeling in his lower torso, combined with that one-of-a-kind type of craving made it unmistakable. Under normal circumstances, a wonderful concoction of drugs fed to an Irken by their PAK would keep the ancient needs at bay, but Zim hadn't found himself under normal circumstances for a very long time.  
Not one to abandon his precious mission, he frequently put off the long journey to Irk necessary to obtain refills.  
Each time the urges came over him, he did as his body was programmed, and stole an earthling to satiate them. His methods usually followed a set protocol in which his partner was selected and pumped with a slurry of drugs whilst they slept, then whisked to the Irken's underground lair. The resulting smeets, once they emerged from the broodslave, were sent back to Irk via Smeet Retrieval Services.  
Zim had sometimes toyed with the idea of selecting Dib for such a purpose, but never followed through, as in ancient times, it was drilled into every Irken's head that the dominant must have never had any sort of relationship to the broodslave prior to mating, or would be cursed to never experience their mid-life growth spurt; a highly culturally-valued height increase experienced by non-defectives upon reaching 400 years of age.  
This birthday, often a joyous occasion in Irken society, had just passed for Zim, granting him no increase in height. Perhaps this was what was making him feel particularly on-edge. Admittedly, though, the fact it had occurred so close to his heat cycle was perfect in a way.

Sprawled out on his stomach, the human was out cold on his bed, surrounded by all the chaotic clutter of his bedroom. It was 5am when the cryptid-enthusiast finally went to sleep, and Zim, who stalked him for hours, was beginning to get irritated. The human stirred as the needle pierced the skin of his neck. His eyelids began to drowsily open, only to fall again as the fast-acting slurry took hold.

Bright, florescent light flooded Dib's vision, just as cold steel underneath him made its unwelcoming presence known. Squinting as his eyes took their time adjusting to the light, he analyzed his unfamiliar surroundings. He found himself sprawled out on his back, on an elevated surface, arms and legs apart. The walls, floor and ceiling around him were all a bright, clean white. The sterile-looking room was somewhat large, and oddly empty. One wall was covered in bizarre technology consisting of several screens, countless buttons, some levers, and what looked like one large drawer.  
He then realized that he was not alone. With his back to Dib and occupying himself with this machinery, was Zim.  
"Zim," he called out flatly through his drug-induced haze "What the hell's going on?"  
Zim's antennae perked up at the broken silence. He disconnected two cables that had been hooked to his PAK and approached the human.  
"I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."  
Seeing him draw closer, Dib attempted to rise from whatever it was he was laying on to move away, only to have a realization that made his blood run cold; he was restrained to the table, with shackles attached to his wrists and ankles. He quickly recovered, though, having been in countless seemingly worse, near-death situations with his adversary before. He looked into the white void of the ceiling as he addressed the alien next to him.  
"What do you want, Zim?"  
"Stupid, ignorant child," Despite his words, Zim only sounded bemused, and not remotely antagonistic. "I'm not in the mood to teach you biology, but to ease your mind, you won't be plagued with curiosity anymore once you're dead."  
"That doesn't ease my mind at all" Dib deadpanned; a knee-jerk reaction to the many instances Zim said something ill-thought-out.  
"Wait, 'dead'? Wh-...what are you thinking of doing to me?" He'd always been headstrong every time he was challenged by his enemy, but strangely, this time he felt a deep sense of foreboding. Even worse, the Irken seemed to pick up on this.  
"Oh? You stuttered, Dib-shit. You've never done that before" Zim delighted "You're not scared of me, are you?" His secondary set of legs silently extended from his PAK. Two of them reached over the table, and to Dib's surprise, actually lifted the Irken over and onto it with him. Zim now perched, legs folded under him, right between Dib's legs.  
Dib, trying desperately to mask his anxiety, gave him a confused, slightly disgusted look. He was bewildered wondering what had come over himself; he had never felt so nervous at the presence of Zim, of all people. He began to wonder if whatever he'd been drugged with was more than a sedative.  
To Dib's further horror, Zim moved up, straddling his crotch.  
"He has no idea how this looks" Dib thought, attempting to ease his discomfort.  
It only skyrocketed again, however, as the Irken placed his hands on the human's chest, before slowly moving them down his torso. He briefly felt him up like this with a pensive look on his face, then reached over to the tray beside the table, and retrieved a pair of scissors. Dib's wide eyes followed Zim's hand as it did so.  
Without hesitation, he cut the stunned Dib's shirt from hem to collar. He moved the two pieces aside to reveal Dib's bare torso and wasted no time in resuming his exploration of it.  
Dib wanted to speak up, to protest, but dreaded showing his fear and was sure his voice would be an embarrassingly shaky mess.  
This was as close as Dib had ever been to the insectoid alien. He emitted no body heat, and his spindly three-fingered hands felt so foreign caressing him that they almost didn't feel real.  
For some reason, Zim appeared particularly transfixed on his stomach, and moved on to palpating it not unlike a doctor examining a patient, except with no regard for the comfort of said patient and entirely too roughly.  
"Dib," he said breathily, making eye contact for the first time in their encounter while still fondling his midsection "I think I found the one thing you're good for." Zim's breathing was slightly audible now as his excitement escalated.  
Dib whimpered involuntarily - the first sound he'd made since before his shirt was cut - and felt sweat form on his forehead as his captor unbuckled his belt, and again picked up the scissors. He cut his jeans starting at the waistband and moving all the way down one leg, then did the same to his boxers.  
Zim paused his work as he caught sight of the six-inch appendage near-vertically protruding from between the human's legs. Dib felt his face go hot with embarrassment.  
He instinctively attempted to move to cover himself, before his restraints reminded him of his utter powerlessness.  
"Human, is that your...injection tendril?"  
"...Yeah, Zim. Yeah, it is." Dib responded irritably.  
Zim squinted at it, thinking, then wrapped a hand around it. Despite having had several human partners, he'd never bothered to explore their bodies beyond what was necessary for the breeding procedure. Maybe it was because he knew Dib, but this time felt different. This was personal. This was going to be his last dance with the years-long object of his most passionate hatred; he might as well take his dignity, too.  
He looked from the organ to Dib's face and back again, before beginning to move his hand up and down its shaft. He felt it twitch a bit against his hand in response.  
Dib squinted his eyes shut and refused to allow any expression that could remotely be read as pleasure grace his face, but his body betrayed him; his hips rose off the table and pressed the underside of his cock harder against Zim's thumb, wanting more.  
His long, bony fingers and the smooth vinyl of his gloves provided an interesting, immensely pleasurable sensation. Against his conscious desire, Dib's hips continued to buck into Zim's grip. Zim had stopped stroking and simply tightly gripped Dib's throbbing cock, observing as the human jacked himself off at his mercy.  
The upper half of the cock became visibly redder as it fully engorged. Zim tilted his head a bit as a clearish liquid leaked from the swollen tip, running down his hand and dripping onto the stainless steel table. At this point, the human's movements had become wilder and less suppressed as he became increasingly consumed by pleasure.  
"Oh, fuck" Dib breathed as quietly as he could.  
The feeling of power and control he had over his arch-enemy in this moment delighted Zim. As he watched him in the throes of passion, a devious grin formed on his face.  
Just as Dib was about to climax, the Irken abruptly jabbed the claw of his thumb into his cock.  
The human could no longer dissociate. He let out a piercing, animalistic shriek as a lightning bolt of pain shot from his cock up through his entire body. It was immediately limp, and lay still engorged against his stomach. Zim cackled, beyond pleased with the result of his power-play.  
"Zim, you fucking..." Dib hissed under heavy breaths, adrenaline giving him some bravado, but too exhausted and in pain to finish his insult or express his anger.  
"Don't you remember, Dib? You're Zim's broodslave."  
The reality of his situation was beginning to come back to Dib. He suddenly felt disgustingly dirty, having just sexually submitted to...him. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was still trapped here, naked, defenseless, with his captor straddling his legs.  
"I'm truly sorry for getting distracted" Zim removed his gloves, revealing his six long, black, razor-sharp claws. They were not structured like fingernails or the retractable claws of Earth animals, but rather, like extensions of his fingers.  
"Distraction of the broodslave is against tradition. It's said the fear of death made their bodies tense and thus better protection for the growing smeets." He pulled his uniform up and over his head.  
"Usually, they willingly sacrificed themselves for the continuation of the Irken race, though." He continued, tossing his heavy boots aside and pulling off his sleek vinyl leggings.  
He was now completely naked. His smooth body, though thin and very bony, was otherwise completely featureless. Dib, despite being terrified, couldn't help but be somewhat puzzled at this. What could possibly be coming?  
"You…you would love to help me continue the Irken race, wouldn't you?" Zim goaded, a shit-eating grin on his face.  
Dib felt a wave of anger wash over him at this. Ignoring his still-aching cock, he struggled futilely against his restraints with all his strength, but his muscles felt like jelly. Those drugs. What were those damn drugs.  
"This is fucked up. You're fucked up. What the hell is wrong with you?" He snapped. The Irken's attempt to strike a nerve had succeeded.  
"Nothing at all, human. I am merely fulfilling my biological needs. Were you not doing the same minutes ago?" Zim prodded.  
Dib felt his face get hot again. He was again at a loss for words. Zim smirked at his small victory.  
The Irken lowered himself onto his nemesis, placed his hands on either side of the human's head and brought his face close to his. His cold-blooded body felt unnervingly strange and foreign against Dib, like he was about to have sex with the undead.  
"He wouldn't kiss me, Irkens don't kiss" Dib thought to himself. The latter was true, yet suddenly Zim closed the gap between their mouths. Dib squeezed his eyes shut again, wishing to disappear. His mind raced searching for reasons why Zim was doing all of this, and why with him.  
Not breaking the kiss and roughly gripping Dib's face and jaw, he shoved his fingers into his mouth, bare claws causing him to wince.  
Dib felt nauseous when a long, cool tongue invaded his mouth and began romping with his own tongue. The dominant pressed his face so hard against Dib's, a couple of his shark-like teeth drew blood on Dib's lower lip.  
The alien's saliva had a strange, mild sweet taste, perhaps unsurprisingly given that the diet of his species was almost entirely sugar. It meant the human could taste everywhere the other's saliva coated his mouth.  
The teenager could feel his body betraying him again, with blood beginning to return to his cock, though it still dully ached. It pressed against Zim, as if asking for more. Stockholm syndrome.  
Dib despised this unconscious reaction almost as much as he despised the creature violating him.  
After a while of passionate one-sided kissing, Zim's tongue began to enter his throat. As much as Dib wished for it to trigger his gag reflex to hopefully deter him, Zim seemed to skillfully avoid this.  
The tongue reached several inches down his throat. It impeded his ability to breathe. Dib began frantically struggling against his restraints, earning a soft moan into his mouth from his captor.  
Though Zim seemed to get off on physically and psychologically torturing him, the suffocating Dib couldn't keep himself from writhing underneath him. He began feeling something strange in the alien's lower abdomen, like it had become slightly swollen.  
After a minute, Zim broke the kiss, removing his tongue from the human's throat. The second he did, Dib gasped for air, chest heaving. He felt a strange sensation in his throat. It felt cooler and almost minty, and like it was coated in something.  
Zim lifted himself up. It was now that Dib could confirm his earlier observation; Zim's lower abdomen and crotch region were indeed somewhat distended. When he looked closer, something inside it appeared to occasionally move.  
Zim, moving more sluggishly than before, sat between Dib's legs. The hopelessly hormonal boy's cock was again engorged and twitching, though this time it wasn't Zim's focal point. He followed his gaze to the area below his genitals. No.  
Zim gently put the tip of his claw to the head of Dib's cock and moved it down the shaft, as if to cruelly remind him of just how much power he had over him. Dib looked at him wide-eyed with fear, which only excited the Irken more. He moved his claw lower, until it reached the human's asshole. He traced around the opening, teasing him.  
"Zim, don't" he murmured fearfully.  
"Stupid human, I have to provide your body with the fluids necessary to nourish smeets since you're not Irken. And the most efficient way to do so is from both ends."  
"There's...baby Irken food in my throat?"  
"And your stomach, and a portion of your small intestine."  
Dib couldn't conceal the horror on his face and in his voice, which had become a whimper.  
"You're turning my body into an incubator for your disgusting offspring?"  
"You should feel honored. Now, I believe I was in the middle of something." Zim answered coldly before slipping a finger into Dib's asshole. The recipient gasped at the sudden, unfamiliar sensation. He winced as the alien moved his finger in and out at a leisurely pace, the dagger-like point of his claw threatening to lacerate his mate at every repetition. Then, too soon for Dib, he inserted a second finger, further stretching the opening. Dib bit his lower lip trying to suppress his intense discomfort. Still, a groan of pain escaped his throat. Zim went about the act of fingering his mate in a quick, efficient manner.  
After a few minutes, the pain had lessened and instead Dib found himself desperately fighting the urge to moan. He'd never admit it, but his enemy's long, bony fingers felt good inside him.  
Once Zim felt he had been sufficiently loosened, he laid down on his stomach, two fingers still filling Dib's asshole. It took him a moment to comfortably situate himself, as evidently his swollen lower belly was sensitive. He brought his face between Dib's legs. He removed his fingers, and just as Dib felt disappointed, replaced them with his tongue, which was just as thick, and plunged far deeper.  
"Zim!" Dib gasped.  
Zim's tongue extended much farther into his ass than it had in his throat. It was somewhat painful, but this added to the pleasure. He couldn't help pushing his rear into the dominant's face, though the restraints on his wrists only let him move down so far.  
Dib's leaking cock twitched more than ever as the alien tongue glided against his prostate. He desperately wished he could jack off.  
Just as he felt his cock was about to explode with cum, Zim pulled out.  
"Oh? What's wrong, Dib-whore? You look flustered." The hedonistic creature remarked slyly. He was apparently experienced enough with humans to know the most sadistic times to ruin their orgasms. This was an act meant for the benefit of the Irken race, after all. A non-Irken broodslave shouldn't be allowed such satisfaction.  
Dib was too exhausted to respond. His cock was limp again, despite his reddened balls being swollen with cum.  
Zim sat up, wiping a bit of Dib's precum off his face from where it had dripped down onto him. Filled to the brim with excitement, his game of persecution-foreplay with his adversary was evolving.  
His head was tilted to one side and he appeared dizzy, even swaying a bit from side-to-side. The bulge in his stomach had grown again, and was visibly throbbing now.  
"Dib-shit, are you ready to be an Irken's broodslave?" He said. His PAK had now flooded his body with an anesthetic designed just for the occasion, sending the Irken into a bizarre loopy delirium. He poked at the twitchy anomaly in his midsection and gasped, pleasantly surprised by the intense sensation this caused, before turning his attention back to the quiet, incredibly alarmed Dib.  
Zim brought himself forward and straddled Dib's crotch again. Dib, sensitive from being unable to cum, hated the thoughts that came to him when he felt the alien's asshole right against his cock.  
Zim pried the human's mouth open, and was pleased to see the inside of his mouth and throat glowing a bright blue.  
"Yes...yes, you are" he said weakly but contentedly, shaky hands moving to hover over his stomach.  
Suddenly, four slick, inky-black, tentacle-like appendages exploded from his lower torso and groin.  
The rupture was so forceful, it spattered pink Irken blood onto the wall several feet opposite of Zim, but the site itself did not bleed. He let out a short, high yelp as it happened, not one of pain, but rather a mix of pleasure and shock.  
Dib let loose all he'd been holding back into a horrified scream.  
Zim, now somewhat more lucid, positioned himself between his legs again, tightly gripping the human's hips. Two of the large, cold, prehensile sex organs forced their way up Dib's ass, causing him to cry out in pain. Far too large for what he was prepared for, he could feel their every painful, invasive move inside of him as they travelled deeper. The things moved on their own and, being still partially coiled up inside Zim, Dib had no idea when they'd end.  
After a few minutes, it seemed the things filling his lower digestive tract finally ran out of length. They were several feet long. Zim's breath was heavy and his body shook slightly in response to the immense sexual pleasure, something few modern Irkens ever experienced.  
His claws sunk deep into Dib's hips. The two inactive appendages laid concerningly close to the human's mouth, twitching occasionally.  
They stayed like this for a moment, Dib groaning in pain and Zim panting. Then, one of the things up his ass lurched forward at the base, followed a few seconds after by the other. Gradually, they both fell into a pumping motion, pulsing inside Dib.  
Simultaneously, they pumped; one releasing semen and the other masses of tiny eggs, filling his intestines with the cool fluids. Both the sheer size of the organs and the volume of fluids they injected caused Dib's abdomen to distend rather dramatically.  
The rhythmic pulsating paired with the intense heat of the human's body caused Zim absolute euphoria. As soon as the first moan escaped his mouth, it became impossible to stop.  
Being forced open far wider than it comfortably could, Dib's asshole was incredibly tight. Zim took to thrusting his hips, welcoming the added stimulation provided by the two appendages rubbing against eachother.  
As he made the most out of the ring of muscle, he absently drove his talons further into his mate's sides before dragging them down a few inches, creating four impressive lacerations. Dib let out a long shriek at the abrupt, sharp pain, driving his sadistic captor wilder. One of the things in his ass gave a series of quick, intense jerks, and, deep inside him, momentarily broke its steady leak to erupt with cum.  
As the breeding continued, the Irken fixed his gaze on Dib's face, as if realizing something.  
He took hold of his mate's jaw and aggressively forced his mouth open for the third time. The other two appendages stirred, seeming to come to life upon sensing their designated opening.  
Dib, whimpering, tried in a panic to move his head away, but Zim's hold on it was strong. Each time he tried moving his head, the alien's talons would dig into his face.  
The sex organs forced their way into his mouth. Like Zim's saliva, the lubricating substance that coated them was faintly sweet. Though the things completely filled his mouth, the alien's hands didn't leave his mate's face, holding his jaws in place and keeping his head shoved up against the steel table, presumably to keep from being bitten; a reasonable precaution to take when face-fucking one's archenemy.  
They forced their way down his esophagus, bulging in his throat, and didn't stop until they were past his stomach. They too began pulsing, twitching, filling him with gametes, eliciting another gratified moan from their owner.  
Once all four of the alien's throbbing reproductive organs were inside his foe, Zim's PAK could be heard emitting a soft whirring sound, almost identical to a laptop's cooling fans.  
Muffled noises escaped Dib's throat, sounding like a mixture of groans and whimpers, as they stayed connected like this. Perhaps because of his need to hyperventilate from terror, it didn't take long before his lack of air spurred him into fighting the restraints again, although he was well-aware of the futility of it.  
The things reached nearly every inch of his digestive tract, and stretched it with litres of cum and Irken zygote.  
This was the moment the human began to accept his fate at the hands of this vile creature and his vile anatomy. He felt his consciousness wavering. His oxygen-starved body, its insides violated, was nearing the final stages of its transformation into a smeetery. The human realized it was inevitable that his final purpose would be to bear the children of the alien race he'd sworn to destroy, and at this point, was too tired to care anymore.  
It was another hour before the alien sex organs released the last of their gametes into the broodslave.  
His belly swollen nearly to bursting point, he couldn't have taken less than two gallons.  
The job of the appendages was complete. Slowly, they shrunk, retracting from the new host. The two in Dib's ass expelled a strong silk-like material before passing his opening, which acted as a dam, preventing him from leaking any of the precious concoction. By the time they withdrew fully into the Irken, they were only about the size of double-A batteries.  
The vertical wound extending from Zim's lower abdomen nearly to his asshole had already begun the regeneration process, it's edges reaching for eachother. In less than 24 hours, there would be no trace of it, or any sign that the Irken's body was remotely capable of what had just occurred.  
Without missing a beat, Zim hopped off the laboratory table and promptly got dressed. With a subtle, cheerful bounce in his step, he wheeled the table to the wall lined with Irken technology, and pulled a lever near the large drawer, which was two feet in height and three in width. As the drawer opened, a hiss of icy air escaped from it's chamber. The inside, extending back several feet and as cold as Irk, was white and sterile like the entire room, but at the bottom was a purple, plush blanket with an Irken "Happy Birthday" message on it in red lettering.  
Zim used his PAK legs as aid as he lifted the lifeless body into the container. Once the drawer latched shut, a light on its front lit up red, displaying three horizontal lines indicative of a sleeping face. When the smeets emerged from the host and began to claw at the walls of the container, this would change to a green happy-face.  
Keen on laying on the couch for a few days to recuperate from his exhaustive deed, Zim strolled out of the breeding room in his blissful post-coitus addle, flipping the light switch as he went. The automatic door closed behind him.


End file.
